When All is Hopeless
by Kaptain Kitty
Summary: Captain Amelia finds herself at a loss as of what to do when her ship accidentally drifts into a nearby nebula over night. What will her final decision be? Rated for mild language.


_Author's note: I'll try to keep this short because I know that this isn't what you want to be reading (and most of you won't anyway), but I thought that I would just explain that this here is a short, pointless one shot that I've had posted on DeviantART for several months because of a writing theme challenge on the site. After much deliberation and a little editing, I have decided to post it up here as well so as to see what you all think. Enjoy! _

_Disclaimer: To put it simply, I do not own __Treasure Planet__. All familiar characters and other content are the property of Disney Animation Studios._

**When All is Hopeless  
By Kaptain Kitty**

Captain Amelia had never been one for making immediate accusations. If punishment was to be dealt, it would be given to the one who had been _proven_ guilty. She would never readily dish out retribution to the person whom she merely _assumed _was at fault, nor would she give in to demands made by the crew such as "They'd seen him do it at the time, it was definitely him" or "They'd seen him do it before, it was most likely him".

Yet, contrary to her belief, she felt the urge to brutally torture the rigger who had sheepishly admitted to having fallen asleep during his night watch. His shift had begun at two o'clock that morning, and was to end at four after being relieved by the next watch person. However, because of his dozing off he had not awoken the relief, meaning that the ship had been unattended for about three to four hours; more than enough time for the _Legacy _to drift off course.

"Captain?" a loud, rough voice broke her from her thoughts.

Standing across from her on the opposite side of her desk, a largely built man stood straight, broad shoulders levelled and stiff. He donned a crisp burgundy officer's coat, his black tri-cornered hat held in front of his chest in his large grey hands; a showing of respect as he spoke to the Captain.

Marcel Johnston, a man whose facial appearance best resembled that of a rhinoceros, was a highly qualified spacer. Having almost spent seventeen years serving in Her Majesty's Navy, he was one of Amelia's first choices as a replacement for her tragically lost First Officer, Arrow.

"Mm…?" Amelia mumbled, raising her gaze from where it was directed at the wooden surface of her desk to meet his questioning expression.

"Are you paying attention?"

"Of course I was!" she snapped, though quickly exchanging the look of slight annoyance to a far more innocent looking smile after seeing the poor man flinch. "Though if you wouldn't mind repeating…"

Johnston sighed, more in relief than anything.

"Electronic Navigational Systems have shut down. We are unable to identify our current point. If a ship were to obtain our signal-"

"Yes, but that was to be expected. You forget, Johnston, that is why we have actual navigators onboard. Is it not their job to fully check the accuracy of the Electronic Navigational Systems and to step in when the computers are not functional?"

'Y-yes, but-"

"But?"

"Without the numbers – which can only be given through the computers – the navigators can't pin-point our location. We know we are inside the Torgeann Nebula, but where we are _exactly _within the nebula we cannot fathom. If a ship were to obtain our signal, they wouldn't know how far in we were, and-"

"-and would not risk venturing into the nebula for fear of having to go too deep, then losing power and becoming stranded themselves. Yes, you have a point there."

With saying that, Amelia let loose a drawn out sigh. As upsetting as it was, Johnston was correct. Somewhere throughout the night, the _Legacy _had gradually drifted off the originally set course and into the Torgeann Nebula, an expansive plasma-filled cloud just along side their route. Now, with the static from the nebula having interfered with the ships Navigational System, they couldn't be sure how far in they were, nor figure the quickest way out of the nebula.

"And what of our engines and power supply?"

"The _Legacy's _engines have been drawn to a stop, ma'am," Johnston answered. "It would be in our best interests to savour what little power we have left in order to make to the nearest port after we are pulled from the nebula. As for our power supply, last I heard we were down to 67 per cent and fading; slowly but surely."

"Great. Bloody wonderful," Amelia grumbled, rising from her seat to stare out the window at the swirling mass of blue and pink.

It was inevitable. The most well-known fact about nebulas was that they suck stored solar power from ships. Astronomers had yet to figure out how, but that would have been unnecessary knowledge at the given time anyway. All that was needed to be known by spacers was that nebulas drain the ship of stored energy and that is why you should chart you course _around _them.

'_But what use is knowing that __**now**__?' _Amelia thought bitterly to herself._'Now we are stuck within the nebula, all computing systems down and our remaining power supply down to only 67 per cent.'_

Looking out of the corner of her eye back to the figure of her First Officer, Amelia took note of how the man now fidgeted slightly. She decided that it was best to relieve him before he became too uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnston. You are dismissed," she told him, offering him a small smile.

Johnston bowed, placing his hat back atop his head before taking a quick leave.

At the sound of the door clicking shut, Amelia chuckled. "Not a lot of self-confidence, that man."

However, the task of boosting her First Officer's self-assurance would be a feat which she would have to tackle some other time. Right now she needed to figure out what would be the best course of action to render them free of the nebula's grasp.

'_If we continue moving, we could end up travelling in the wrong direction and end up deeper within the nebula. With all the computer systems down, we can neither navigate our way out nor send a communication to any nearby ships or ports. Our power is already diminishing at a rapid pace. It wouldn't do us any good speeding up the process by using any of the remaining energy. So I suppose all we really can do is remain where we are and_ _hope that someone notices the S.O.S Messenger Rocket we fired and comes to look for us.'_

That was when she remembered.

'_But what Captain in their right mind would venture into a nebula? Especially when they know that they could end up lost and stranded themselves! Agh! Let's face it…'_

They were stuck.

Fortunately for her, there was one thing she could do at a time like this.

Pulling herself from the window, she strode over to the exit of her stateroom. The smirk upon her lips and the vengeful gleam in her green eyes said it all; whether or not he was the one who was to blame, that rigger who had decided to snooze upon the bridge during his watch was going to get it.

'_Maybe watching the poor man having to polish all the brass – every bell, beam, and screw – with nothing but a toothbrush will offer me some relief from all this stress…'_

END

_How was that? Good? Bad? Completely and utterly stupid? Yes, it is definitely that last one. Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think!_


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